Reflections From a Country Girl

All of us have a story about learning to drive as teenagers or adults. 

Many of us grew up in a era when a learners permit was not necessary.  Others were able to get right under the wire before the laws changed – the one requiring a trainee to be a year older before he or she could get a license beyond a permit. 

My father had several cars back then.  One carried the ever growing family around and one he took to work.  Since he was the manager of several ice and fuel companies in our town, his work car smelled like a cross between coal and oil.  If you weren’t prepared to ride in that car, the smell made you nauseous…particularly early in the morning.  

Since one car was always at home most of the time, by 12 years old I was driving it with my father’s permission…and with my mother’s reservation.    I didn’t drive on the road, mind you, but around our very lengthy u-shaped driveway.  I learned how to move forward and also how to back up.  I knew if I drove even once out on the road I would not have to backup.  I would lose the privilege of driving at all.  I can’t tell you how tempting that was as I got old and more confident. 

My father once took my Welsh born mother out to teach her to drive.  

She drove one time.  

He raised his voice at her to avoid running into the ditch and she said that was the last time she was about to get behind the wheel of the car.  “Anyway, I’m used to walking so it will be easy to walk two miles to the bus down our country roads for me and the children.” she said. 

When I was older – still without a driver’s license – I would walk that long stretch to catch the bus to my part-time job. It was in town some ten miles away.  I occasionally would walk from downtown to where my father worked…even further from home.  Eventually I began running the cash register for him and staying until he was done for the day.  When I got tired I went around to the car for a nap.  

I finally got that sacred license and used one of his old cars.  Those were good ole cars and I managed to “blow the carbon out of the motor” often as I drove into town to work.  One day, however, I did it once too often and found myself stranded along the road with soot from the dead motor all over me.  

Dad was not amused.  

My wish for you today is that – if you are a parent getting ready to teach your child how to drive – you are patient and understanding.  If you are a student getting ready to learn to drive, listen to your parents and find out what their driving experiences were.  You just might enjoy it. 

~ Joellen

This entry was posted on Monday, November 2nd, 2009 at 6:25:pm and is filed under Life & Events, Living Life to the Fullest. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.